Postcard to a daughter

By
Diana Der Hovanessian /
July 7, 1980

I sit on boulders near Rockport; you walk along the Big Sur coast. When my cliffs sink into their past the mountains rise next to your bay. Tides rock to make and undo secrets, crabs walk where we walked. But time flows in one direction only, lets water sway back and forth. This soft night in old Rockport flows west to be your day.